Last week the hubby was out of town for a work trip, so I was flailing all over the place trying to keep our ship running. On Thursday, I took the kids to stock up on food for the weekend, and the Gravy Baby lost it -- and I mean lost it -- over a tank of live littleneck clams. I'd planned on kind of mailing it in for dinner that night by having us all raid the 'fridge for leftovers, and so I told the Gravy Baby the clams would have to wait.
The Gravy Baby pleaded with me. "Puh-lease, can't we just have a little bit of clams?" I opened my mouth to decline again, and then I paused. It's not like he was asking me for cake or pizza or any number of things three-year-olds ask for. "You can use the basil I'm growing in my garden, mama! Puh-lease puh-lease puh-lease!!!"
I caved, and into the cart went 5 pounds of clams. We ended up eating them in spurts all weekend. On the first night I made them, the Gravy Baby sang to his supper. "Oh clams, how I love you," he bellowed.
Yeah, I believe him.
After the jump, a recipe.